The Temple Poltergeist
by Edna Pests
Summary: A surviving Time Lady meets the Jedi, is forced to train as one, and decides to use her intellect to screw with the Temple in protest.
1. Sarah

Beyond Wild Space, there were galaxies even the Jedi hadn't reached. They had no reason to. The nearest planets didn't even come in range of their sensors, and they were pretty sure that was out of their jurisdiction. So they ventured no further. But because of this, they had failed to discover one simple truth. Today would start their introduction to it.

"Okay, Sarah, you _need _some company," she muttered, as she lazily directed her ship onwards. "Stars, stars, stars, stars, _stars!_ Okay, I get it! Space is _big._ Give me a space pirate marooned on the next moon. Just someone to play Twenty Questions with. Oh, hello."

She was on the boundary of an uncharted galaxy. It was actually pretty monumental. Not even the Time Lords had poked around before someone had seen fit to blow them up.

"Here I go!" she said, in a stage voice. "Sarah the Time Lady, boldly going where no one from _this_ galaxy has gone before! In honor of the occasion, I vow never to travel this far again without someone sitting in the passenger seat, even if it's a sea monkey."

She stroked the turbo booster, contemplatively. She didn't really have any excuse to use the speed, other than the fact that she was _bored, and when was that not a good excuse? _Lets enter this place with a _bang!_

Sarah kicked it. The ship launched forward.

And then the whole universe hit her head at once.


	2. The Rock

She felt the dark matter between the stars, flexing, stretching, ever changing. She felt the stars themselves, burning a harpy's screech hot enough to stream the flesh from her bones. She felt the planet ahead of her, and the minds of every one of it's inhabitants. And worst of all, she felt her hand on each of them. With the smallest flick of her mind, she could stop the heart of a child playing with his fake blaster on the other side of the planet.

Furiously bolting down her own mind, she shouted.

_Hold, hold, HOLD! Don't move __**anything. DON'T-MOVE-ANYTHING!**_

_Sarah._

_They'reallgoingtodiethey'reallgoingtodie- No! Don't even __**think**__ that! Don't think anything! __**DON'T-THINK-ANYTHING!**_

_Sarah, I need you to trust me. Feel me. I would never let you hurt anyone._

If he'd shouted he never would have gotten through. It was his soothing, steady presence that made itself known to her through the chaos of her state. The universe spun around them like a freezing hurricane of a million lights, but he was a warm, dark constant.

After a moment, she replied, _Thank you, Qui-Gon. Can you help me out of this mess?_

_I believe so. This "mess" is called the Force. Understand that you use it like a finger. You cannot kill that boy unless you make a conscious decision to. Even if you accidentally think it, it won't occur-_

_My dear Mr. Jinn, lies are a bit useless here._

_If you don't calm down, someone __**will**__ die. Trust me. I've got you. You needn't fear while I'm here. Now, you're taking everything at once. Try concentrating on something individually. Meet it. Make friends with it. Follow me to this star-_

They went over many things. Stars, matter, plants, people. She felt his surprise at the length of her reach. Many times he was following _her._ But always his presence was there, introducing her, turning the chaos into serenity.

When he thought it was safe, he began to withdraw from her mind. Reality started to fade in around her. She felt his long hands on either side of her head, saw his bearded face, and rich brown eyes. Then she was back. She realized she was on the floor, her back propped up against the ship's wall.

"You have a strong mind." he said, withdrawing one hand, and using the other to make the last mental scans.

She gulped, trying to clear her woozy head, and said, "I _know._ But as you were trying to comfort me, I'll forgive you for being patronizing."

"Most generous of you." he said, with a small smile. "I must say, I'm surprised you've survived this long."

"Me too." she said. "But as for your Force's lethality, there's a simple explanation. I was never connected to it before."

"Yes, you were," said Qui-Gon, without a trace of doubt. "but growth spurts are not uncommon. You will have gotten small signs before-hand, but without recognition."

"Jinny, I am a highly sensitive psychic being. I know my own mind inside and out, and I assure you I've never felt the presence of this Force until now."

He had returned with a thick blanket, which he draped around her shoulders, pulling the ends around her neck.

"When one is subjugated to something since birth, one often doesn't notice it until it makes a sudden change." he said.

"When one is freaking awesome, one does!" said Sarah. "Oh, thank you."

She accepted the cup of hot something from him.

"Look," she said, "let me take you past the boundary of this galaxy, and I can prove it easy-peasy."

"Unfortunately I do not have the time." said Qui-Gon, standing and going to the ship's controls. "I'm engaged on a mission that involves many lives. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me. I can't leave you alone so soon after your growth spurt. Rest assured, I'll do my best to keep you safe."

"That may not be as hard as you think." said Sarah, getting up. "Do I get to lend a hand?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Well, we'll see. Hey," she put a hand on his shoulder, "thank you for saving my sanity."

"It would be a pity not to." he said.

"Dang straight." she said, and plopped into the copilot's seat. "How long till we arrive?"

"An hour."

"Good. Time for story telling. So, Jinny, how does a skilled Force user end up saving a skilled awesomeness user on the outskirts of his galaxy?"

"Your mind found mine. I heard its cry, and made it to your moving ship in two hours. You wouldn't have noticed the time pass in your state."

"Oy!" she protested. "I know everything about time! I knew time upside down and backwards before you were even hatched!"

"What time is it?"

"…That's not funny."

"It's extremely funny."

"That's _not funny_…_at all_…times infinity!" she said. "Now, what's your job that you're entrusted with Force wielding and life-saving?"


	3. Talent

Qui-Gon summarized as best as he could what the Jedi Knights were. When he was done, they had little time left because she kept asking for specifics.

"One more question, and perhaps I should've led with this." said Sarah. "What's our mission?"

"A particularly irksome Sith known as Darth Rot." said Qui-Gon. "He is powerful, intelligent, and above all, quick. If you ever fight him, your first hesitation will be your last."

"Gotcha."

"He's been working on the weaponization and transportational uses of wormholes- Sorry, have I said something funny?"

"He's a bit behind the times. But go on."

"The transportational uses we know he's mastered, although we're confident he hasn't divulged it to any remaining Sith. He used one to take himself to Broodoa, and through means we can't fathom, keeps the wormhole sustained but harmless at the edge of the planet. Now the people are forced to subjugate themselves to his rule, and alter their world till it's fit to be a Sith sanctuary. If they refuse, he'll let the wormhole rip Broodoa apart."

"Hold on, how do you _know_ this stuff? Are your scouts _that_ far out?"

"No, Rot threw one of the citizens- a rebellious young male- into the wormhole as an example. He emerged at the other end, where Rot had come from, and traveled to us to beg for help."

"Ha!"

So Rot had no idea that his wormhole was permanently stuck on transport.

"So all that's left to do is tell the peeps." said Sarah. "Not exactly a difficult mission, is it?"

"Simple, but certainly difficult. There is still the matter of defeating him. We cannot allow any citizens to die in the process."

"Well, I have complete faith in you." she said, with a bit of a smile.

Because she had no intention of allowing _him_ to die in the process either, or even be involved, if possible. She had to repay him in _some_ way.

Broodoa's sky was black, but the cities were fully lit, as if from an invisible sun. It was a bizarre thing to behold

"I could definitely see this as a bad guy home planet." she said, as the two of them walked down the ship's ramp.

"We won't let that happen." said Qui-Gon.

Sarah smiled.

"No, _we_ won't." she agreed, perkily.

"You know what I meant."

"If you meant your subconscious has already picked up how badbutt I am, then yes."

"Badbutt?" he inquired.

"Not all of them are good. I would've expected an experienced man like you to know this…I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I should hope not."

There was an actual _gate_ around the city. Iron walls, no gaps, with guards at every door.

"Rot's new installment." said Sarah.

"How did you guess?"

"Guessing's a terrible habit. I saw. Broodoans are obviously great architects. Look at their buildings. But this gate is nothing short of shoddy. I guess they can only show their displeasure by working half-heartedly."

"You guess?"

"Shut up."

"That was quite clever."

"You seem surprised."

"Sarah."

"Sorry. Thank you, Jinny."

"There you go."

"Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship." she said.

"I'm not Louie."

"…Okay, I love you." she said. "Be my best friend for life."

"Jedi do not form attachments."

"So you're not attached to your padawan?"

"Shh."

"So you _do_ have one! I can't wait to meet him-"

"_Shh!_"

Sarah shushed.

They were at the edge of the inky black woods. Ahead of them was a small side entrance, manned by two guards. No uniforms, just casual clothes she guessed were their own. And big guns. Pick a planet at random, and they always learn how to make a gun.

"Wait here." said Qui-Gon, only to see that Sarah was already moving.

He reached to catch her arm, but she was already out of the woods, in no man's land, walking casually, confidently, and above all _openly_ towards the guards who regarded her warily.

_Sarah, turn back __**now**__,_ he ordered(their link not completely faded).

"Excuse me," she said to them, "Gosh, this is just _so_ embarrassing. I was picking berries over there in the- in the…underbrush, and I forgot all about curfew."

"There's no curfew, no berries, and those are alien clothes." said the first guard, a middle-aged humanoid.

She stared at him. "Well, you just…cut right to the point, don't you?"

Qui-Gon watched on, stealing himself for the inevitable. He'd never be able to reach her before the lasers burned through her head.

"But you know what else isn't here, that I'm _so_ happy about?" She nodded at the door.

Instinctively, they turned to look, and that was all she needed. Her hands shot out to hit their guns. Their stomachs were introduced to her elbows, and their temples to her fists.

"No camera." she told the sleeping guards.

She looked back at the forest.

_You coming?_


	4. The Opposition

The light blue, transparent form of Darth Sidious watched the screen as the Jedi Master and his now blaster toting stray entered the city. No camera indeed. But, being new to this galaxy's technology, she may be forgiven.

He said nothing. Merely watched Rot, and waited.

Rot merely winced, showing he truly didn't comprehend the danger he was in.

"Yeah, apparently the kid survived," said Rot, "but on the other hand, his passage showed me more than his death would have. I know how to make the hole kill now."

"Splendid. And how exactly will this stop the citizens from killing you once the Jedi reveals his findings?"

Rot blew out his cheeks. "I'll make an example, I suppose. Which would you like: Jinn, or the slut?"

"Don't underestimate the girl. Jinn has always been one for championing charity cases, but there often proves to be something behind them. There was something of the Force in her reflexes when she disposed of your guards."

Rot grinned with amused disbelief. "The girl's a _baby_, Master! You or I wouldn't have even needed to approach them!"

"Obviously. But a being who approaches blasters unarmed is either a fool or hiding some talent. Kill the Jedi, but keep the girl. I want to learn more about her."

"Sure thing, Master."

"As for the example, choose someone young."


	5. Baby's First Sith

_Author's note: Thanks for the favorite, andrewjeeves. On with the show!_

"House to house?" said Sarah.

"Truth travels fast."

"_House_ to _house?_"

"Do you have a better suggestion?" asked Qui-Gon.

"Oh my gosh, so many. For one, we go to the theater, and interrupt their history ceremony."

"Not exactly discreet. In fact, I'd say that was the opposite of discreet."

"What do we need to be discreet for? More time? To do what, sharpen your laser sword? This way he'll come straight to us. What's a little risk if it's to ourselves?"

Qui-Gon hesitated. The mantra of the Jedi was repetitive. _Patience. Calculate everything. Risks are an open invitation to failure._

"Very well." he said.

She punched the air with a hissed 'yesss'.

"But follow my lead."

…..

"This is bad."

They were hiding in the actors' pit in the stage, which was currently switched off. When it was activated, the currently transparent glass would shine with a buttery gold light, casting the actors into dramatic silhouette. The first row of ebony seat were at ground level, the next higher, and so on until the chairs surrounding the stage rose to the sky.

"A feeling?" Qui-Gon asked.

"A fact. Why hasn't he intercommed the planet about us?"

"He doesn't know."

"Didn't you see the camera at the door? Bad idea to let him know that I knew, etc."

"Then he's trying to preserve that to give us a false sense of security."

"_Or_," said Sarah. "He's allowing us to tell Broodoa, because he isn't frightened. He knows it's working now. He'll prove it the moment we've told them, serving a dual purpose by also be depleting their faith in the Jedi."

"Were you _there?_"

They turned. Darth Rot didn't wear the dark robes you'd expect, but a tailored black suit. His blonde hair was slicked back, and a golden lightsaber hung from his belt. His eyes protruded innocently, and his face was open and handsome.

Still watching the Sith, Sarah muttered to her friend out of the corner of her mouth.

"I didn't sense him. Did you sense him?"

"No."

"Don't be a simpleton. Of course you didn't." said Rot. "This is my planet. It's acclimatized to my presence."

"…Can he do that?" Sarah muttered again.

"It's a talent." Qui-Gon replied.

"Enough." said Rot, displeased they weren't talking to him. "That was a superb bit of guesswork, Miss…"

"Sarah."

"Charmed!"

"Enchanted! I never guess, peasant. How'd you know we'd be here?"

"I guessed."

"Did I hear your Master told you?"

"Now, Sarah, I _am_ capable of independent thought."

"Keep telling yourself that."

At that moment, the doors opened, and people started pouring in, oblivious to their presence in the pit.

"We're here." said Qui-Gon. "You've prevented us from informing them. There's no need for a new example."

"Wonderful of you to be so encouraging," said Rot, "but could you see me passing this up? They spot you, their hopes rise to the sky, and BOOM! Blended Jedi!"

Sarah automatically stepped in front of Qui-Gon. The Force was telling her things about this man. Rot had used the same playful, relaxing manner while he'd forced men to eat their own intestines. He ducked as a blaster bolt came at his head.

"Less talk," said Sarah, "and more killing- huhck!"

Qui-Gon had lifted her out with the Force, sending her temporarily out of harm's way. She landed on her back. Rot back-flipped on to the stage, a blade the color of blood emitting from his hand. Qui-Gon leapt out, green saber at the ready. The crowd gasped.

"A Jedi! A Jedi!" cried a little girl.

Rot grinned. _Rise to the sky._

_Okay._ thought Sarah. _Lets see how good this guy is._


	6. The Problem

She fired three blaster bolts at Rot. His ruby blade caught all three without taking his eyes off Qui-Gon. The bolts left burn marks on the stage, on the pit, and on her. She hissed as it singed her thigh, the skin screaming in pain like someone had pulled a nail through it.

"Sarah?" said Qui-Gon, as he sparred.

"Fine." she said, tightly. "You two look like friggin' Christmas, by the way."

She stood, putting weight excruciatingly on her charred thigh, and continued to fire. Dealing with that and Qui-Gon didn't even slow him down.

"Use the Force, Sarah!" Qui-Gon ordered.

_He's right._ she thought. _This could all be over in a second._ But the truth was, she was terrified of it.

_Sarah,_ Qui-Gon said in her mind, _this could-_

And then Rot tore the roof off.

There was no debris, just a loud wrench as the roof was sucked into the wormhole that blotted out the sky. It was a typhoon of different shades of flashing violet, the picture of insanity. For Rot to have _such_ control over it that only the roof was taken was ridiculous. This man _had_ to be stopped.

Sarah pointed at the wormhole, and searched for the appropriate words.

"Hey!" she said.

She looked at Qui-Gon just in time to see his feet flying past her. She made a terrific lunge, and caught the Jedi by his booted ankle.

"What are you _doing?_" she yelled, over the roar.

"I'm not doing it on purpose!" he called back.

The pull on her Jedi balloon increased, and her feet started to slide. She caught the balustrade by the actor's pit, anchoring them both. Her knuckles creaked. Darth Rot merely watched, arms folded, a faint smile on his face.

"Little help?!" she shouted at the watching citizens.

They looked at the wormhole in fear. Only she stood between her friend and a blended death.

And she'd gone blank.

Her hands were sporadically spasming with the pressure. Qui-Gon turned his head, and his thoughts filled her.

_It's alright, Sarah. Go to Coruscant. They'll help you._

She'd have to tell his padawan he was dead. Dead, because she didn't have the guts to-

Well, that was the answer, wasn't it?

_Blended Jedi. Blended death. The wormhole is a blender. Therefore, ergo- Fudge._ _Fudge, fudge, fudge. I'm actually going to do this._

"Sarah?" Qui-Gon called, sensing the shift.

She smiled at him.

"Well, what kind of thanks would it be, Jinny, if I let you die now?"

Sarah's ancient eyes shut, then opened, and saw the Force. It was a fog of different shapes and colors, running through everything. It flowed through Rot and Qui-Gon in a trickle, but it gushed through her like a broken dam. She stretched it, and shaped it. Her two streams dove into the wormhole. It spun one way. She spun the other. Rot frowned. They strained against each other, growing faster and faster until they were a war of spinning gold a violet. The colors merged into blinding white-

And stopped. Silence, as the black sky of Broodoa _poft_-ed back into view. All that was left were tiny wisps of violet, trailing into the distance.

Qui-Gon landed on his feet. Rot was on his hands and knees, the contest having sapped his strength.

The Broodoans burst into applause. Some were actually crying in relief, the women holding their children close. Sarah grinned.

_Oh, yeah._ she thought. _This is the reason I do it. Well, one of them._

But her streams hadn't vanished. The moment she realized this, the energy grew unbearably tense. She tried to force them into nothing, but only managed to break them into six vibrating pockets, each a brilliant, pulsating scarlet. They thrashed like mad in her grasp.

"Qui-Gon!" she shouted, panicking.

Then one of the shards burst from her grip. It went straight for Rot, who was still labeled Enemy in her subconscious. Qui-Gon reached out his mind to stop it, but it was like raising a feather in front of a flamethrower. It cleaved Rot in two.

_So they had to have a living target? Very well._

A shard cracked her leg, forcing the bone through the skin, blood seeping like molten gold from the wound. In another moment, the rest would be on her.

Qui-Gon's hands encompassed her face.

"Get out of the way!" she screamed at him.

_Let go of them._ came his thought.

_What?_

_Let go of them, __**completely.**__ Let go of __**everything.**_

And, one by one, they dissipated the shards.


	7. Obi-Wan Kenobi

"The Force _prevails!_" Sarah crowed from the copilot's seat.

"Don't bounce." said Qui-Gon. "You'll jostle your leg."

"Did you _see_ me? I done _beat_ that mother-effer! Oh, and you did a little too, I suppose."

The Jedi spared her an amused glance. Under the girl's pain-racked instructions, the Broodoans had healed her alien leg, leaving it merely sore and tired. To further prove her usefulness, Sarah had shortened their journey from half a year to a few minutes by a combination of the trail left by the wormhole, and some alien technology she kept in the back. The whole of it was beyond human intelligence.

"Nice of Rot to provide our ticket home, ay?" she'd said.

Home. Doubtless the word had slipped out due to their mind meld. Still, it was a good sign.

But back to the present.

"Yes, like preventing you from killing yourself." said Qui-Gon.

"Yes, that small contribution."

Time to go out on a limb.

"I think it'd be best if you learned how not to do that." said Qui-Gon.

"Well, as I'm going to be floating around this galaxy for a while, I have to agree."

"Would you be willing to accompany me to the Temple for such instruction?" he asked.

_How Not To Kill People 101?_ she thought. _I suppose I can stick around for that._

"More than willing." she said.

"Excellent. Now, you have a plethora of information about me, but I learned nothing from your mind but your name."

"And that's not even my real name!"

"Impressive."

"Thanks." she said. "Well, in short, I'm a wandering do-gooder from a galaxy _waaaay_ past your Wild Space, and I'm here because my people saw fit to scatter the parts for the ship I need across the universe. I've got this old riddle I'm deciphering, and, according to it, the last part may have drifted off around here."

"You're deciphering it alone?"

"Yup."

He sensed her hidden wistfulness.

"Safer that way." she added.

"How long have you been searching?"

"A while."

"Across whole galaxies?"

"Yup."

"It must be a spectacular ship." he said.

Her eyes twinkled. "You have no idea."

Suddenly, Qui-Gon relaxed. She recognized the look of someone turning to a long missed home, and felt envious.

"Welcome to Coruscant." said Qui-Gon.

It was something out of a strange dream. The continents were made of different shades of glimmering copper, some outlined in burning hot wires of sunset. The Force told her: Life, death, work, debate, and creation. One point was louder than the rest. It breathed the Force, expanding and retracting in refreshing gulps. She spotted it, a glimmer of pure silver amongst the copper. The Jedi Temple.

…..

In contrast, the Temple in person seemed most austere- huge, tall, and stony, built to intimidate. But not her. For Sarah, it was just a place to get in and out of. When they settled on the landing pad, a young man(fifteen she guessed) with a thin braid over his shoulder came running up to their ship. She grinned. Reunions made her happy.

Qui-Gon's padawan(for she could sense their bond a mile off) looked quizzically at the unfamiliar vessel. When she came out, his expression switched to dry agitation, and his thought was plain.

_Not again._

"And who is this?" he said, when they reached him.

Sarah hid a smile. His tone was polite on the surface, but underneath was a mother with her hands on her hips.

Qui-Gon gave the teen a mild look that deflated him, and said, "Sarah, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan, your Master is epic."

He took her hand. He'd planned to say 'I know very well', to appease Qui-Gon, and to say clearly that he was _his_ Master, but the moment their skin touched her Force given power gave him a sharp jolt. He quickly retrieved his hand.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked, quickly. "I really have no control over this."

"No, it was just…surprising." said Obi-Wan.

_Very_ surprising. That was a _phenomenal_ reach, and her last statement completed the mystery.

"I see why my Master brought you." he said.

_But still…this was going to cause __**so**__ many problems._

"Master, the Council has been alerted of your early arrival." he said. "They wish to debrief you immediately."

_I'd like to know that too. How the blazes did you return so fast?_

"How convenient." said Qui-Gon. "Well, it would not do to keep them waiting. Come along, you two."

They did so, Sarah skipping to heckle his parental tone.

_Author's Note: This is as far as I've typed up the story. A good review will convince me it's worth the effort to dig out my journal, and type some more._


	8. Getting Acquainted

Sarah bounced.

You're not allowed in front of the Council unless they request your presence so she and Obi-Wan were waiting outside for Qui-Gon to finish his report. She could tell her bouncing was aggravating the young padawan, so she stopped, and looked at him. He was perched ramrod straight on the couch, while she was sprawled across it, languidly.

"You okay?" she asked.

He turned his head of his pillar of rigid torso.

"What do you mean?" he asked. More of demanded. And no madam! He considered her riff-raff.

"You seem a little tense."

He looked confused. Ah. He was always like this.

"Who raised you?" she asked. Surely it wasn't all Qui-Gon, or he wouldn't have turned out like this.

"Everyone." he said. "That is to say, every Master here, before Qui-Gon took me as his apprentice."

"Did you ever know your parents, Obi? Ugh, that's a terrible nickname. Wan? No, makes me want wantons. Wan…ie? Ugh, I may vomit."

The corner of his mouth lifted, and, just like that, she loved him like an old friend.

"You could just call me Obi-Wan."

"No, that's insane. Owan? Ehhh. Wabi? No, vomit. Wob? ...Cute."

"No." Obi-Wan said, firmly.

"Hold that thought." she said.

Then the doors slid open, and a female Master walked out.

"The Council will see you now." she said.

Sarah raised her hand. "If I'm good, do I get a lollipop?"

"What's a lollipop?" asked Obi-Wan.

"It's a kind of candy, Wob."

"I said no."


	9. The Solution

She didn't even have time to take in the room before a dozen mental eyes were prodding at her mind. Obi-Wan watched her throw up her hands, as if confronted by a bright light.

"_Woah!_" she said. "Please, could you stop- That's my _mind_, and it's very near and dear to me!"

"Ask us to be blind to you, you would." she heard a croaky voice say.

"Well, I don't know what kind of society you got going on here, but where _I_ come from, it's considered the heighth of rudeness to look at someone's mind without permission. Please, guys? For me?"

A pair of "eyes" closed. The others followed suit.

"Ah." she said, lowering her hands. "Thank you, kindly."

The room was perfectly round, making her think of Arthur's table(now _there_ was a fellow), with windows for walls exposing the bustle and beauty of the city beyond them. Lining the room were small, stool like snubs, topped by beings and holograms of different species. _Without_ using the Force to examine them(thank you very much) she got the air of people who'd been around the block a few times. Two in particular caught her attention. A small green thing who emanated power was watching her with calm interest. The other a dark-skinned humanoid, bald, who looked like the youngest of the group. His face was blank, but his eyes were marking her as a potential threat.

Qui-Gon stood in a marble star at the center of the room. She joined him, the still un-nick-named Obi-Wan following.

"A breach of privacy, you consider it," said the green one, "but accepted Qui-Gon, you have."

This guy's way of speaking was either extremely irritating or extremely cute. She'd decide later.

"Can't imagine why. I hate the fellow." she said. She brought her hands together with a clap. "So, what's it to be? How Not To Explode Yourself 101?"

"It will be a little more intricate than that." said an old-man, with a semi-pear shaped head. "A source as powerful and chaotic as yours will need full training to even _begin_ to conquer its difficulties."

"Aren't I a bit too old for that?" she said. "Well, I say a bit. Ninety-three years too old, to be precise."

"Overlook this, we must," said the green one, "or destroy many lives, you will."

"Yeah, but here's the thing. I'm more of just passing through. Ship to assemble, big things to do, all that, and I really wasn't planning on staying for thirty years, or however long this would take, so if you could just give me a rundown of the basics I'm sure I could surprise you."

"We are sorry, but this is impossible." said pear -head, softly but definitively.

"Hoy." Sarah breathed, scratching the back of her head.

This would seem several more years searching the universe to find the element she needed.

"I suppose I see where you're coming from." she said. "I'll get myself out of range of your Force as quick as possible. Namaste."

"Told us your theory, Qui-Gon has. Boundaries the Force has not."

"I assure you it does." she said, lightly. "So, if you'll just lend me Jinny, I'll be on my way."

"We cannot risk Master Jinn on another dangerous venture into Wild Space based on a theory we have no faith in." said pear-head.

"Then I'll go alone, and keep a close watch on myself." she said, something hard in her voice.

She saw where this was going, and had begun to feel like a cornered animal.

"You'd be risking many lives, including your own." said pear-head.

She turned her head to the side. She looked at Qui-Gon, whose eyes held sympathy, but agreement.

"Gee, what can I say?" she said. "You're not keeping me here, guys."

A tense pause followed.

"If you resist," said the bald man(her head lifted with interest), "you will only succeed in prolonging your stay."

"Ha ha! _Someone _ had some overconfidence tea this morning, with a side-helping of holding a person against their will!"

"Sarah," Qui-Gon said, quietly. "these are good people."

"Yes, _excellent _people." she said, slowly backing up. "_Wonderful, seriously misled_ people…"

The bald man reached through the Force to stop her.

And then the chamber exploded.


	10. Gillis

As they'd been talking, she'd been sketching the Force pressure points around the windows in her head. They might have noticed this, but, out of pure coincidence, she'd asked them to shut their "eyes". When the glass showered around them, the Masters went to work, stopping the shards in their path, and dissipating her rogue Force pockets. While they were thus engaged, she flipped out of the window, apparently to fall to her death. But her timing was true, and she landed on top of a passing speeder.

The wind threw her hair back, and pulled her face taught. She planted herself, feet braced against the rims of the turbo engines, her hands gripping the crevice of the wind -shield. The driver exclaimed in surprise, and then anger. He shouted at her in glyconese, but she ignored him.

Sarah thought. She couldn't run back to get the beginnings of her Tardis- that would be the first thing they'd seize. It was a matter of finding a place to lay low until she could establish a workable network in the city, and then use those resources to break in and out of the Temple.

But first there was the small matter of eluding the Jedi. She looked back, black hair buffeting around her face. Ah, here we are. The calvary.

A tall, long muscled, lizard humanoid in Jedi robes(the back of his head shaped like a duck's bill, flapping lips, slits for nostrils) had taken a position similar to hers on a speeder four vehicles down from hers. As she watched, he tensed his long legs, and leapt over two of them. Oh, dear. She retrieved the Triple X Hacker(made it herself, it's not cool unless it sounds like a toy) from her pocket, and pointed it at the wind-shield. It rose, allowing her to slide in next to the shouting driver.

"So sorry." she said, knocking out the glycon painlessly with a little pinch she'd learned from a good friend. She slid into the driver's seat, and lowered the hatch just as her pursuer leapt again.

_Well_, she thought, _as you're so proud of your agility __anyway__…_

She cut the engines, sending the speeder into a free fall. Another speeder flew through the space where she'd been, hitting the Jedi's leg with a crack.

Something light green splattered on the wind-shield as she restarted the speeder just before it could hit the ground. She looked up, and watched the Jedi weakly swing onto a vehicle heading back towards the Temple. He was out of the game. He was alive, and he would mend.


	11. Mycay

The Jedi would have cameras here and there, of course. They _were_ the space police, after all. So now it was time to get some distance, and lose the speeder. She did several illegal things, that included weaving through speeders, clouds, and buildings. Then she found a back alley to land in. She gently lifted the unconscious driver back into his seat, hopped out, gave the nearest camera a cheerful wave, launched herself over a wall of trash, and ran. Ah, downtown. Crowded, confusing, and oh-so noisy. Glowing, neon graffiti glared down from the buildings, clubs pounded their music into the night, and street vendors shouted the value of their wares. She slid her way through the jostling, street walkers. From one very drunk humanoid, she purloined a white hat, with a large, tilted brim. She passed a spitting, middle-aged man taking off his long, blue jacket in preparation for a brawl, and took that too.

Finally, she sensed a hand groping through the Force behind her, seeking the unmistakable stench of her power. Sarah looked for an opportunity, and quickly spotted one. Several stories up, a piano sized television system was being lifted to the top of a building via crane. She noted the tell tale signs of wear on the wire supporting it. Surreptitiously, she took out another device of her own making, and pointed it up, heating the wire, weakening it further. Then she pressed her hand against the building, leaving her Force stench all over it, and melted back into the crowd.

Sure enough, the definitely-not-a-jedi-thank-you-very-much woman headed towards the building. She was a young human, brunette and plain-clothed, and her senses didn't kick in until the television was almost on her head. Sarah almost jumped forward to save her, but the Knight moved just in time to save her from worse than a dislocated shoulder.

_Maybe they didn't expect me to be so mean. _Sarah thought.


	12. What're Friends For?

Sarah was starting her reconnaissance(while staying on the move- she had no intention of underestimating the ninja monks). She sought out people striking shady deals, then took the dealers aside, learning what she could about the local "bosses" by using various techniques- pretending she knew more than she did, psychic handshakes, threatening, etc.

The next- and last- encounter came when she reached the poorest neighborhood. Small houses, virtually no traffic. Suddenly, she felt another hand groping through the Force for her scent. In such a small crowd, there was no way she could hide. Her only option was to run.

If she was a complete idiot. If she wasn't, her option was to know that the Jedi wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

_Come on, Jinny. Just how stupid did your report make me sound?_

She kept walking calmly, as if she hadn't sensed the hand yet, and looked ahead for hiding spots.

There. A bridge stretching over the street. It hooked two cheap hotels together, and appeared to be made of electrical plumbing. A barrel-shaped cooling system was attached on top, and when she focused she could sense the presence behind it. The Jedi waiting to pounce when she ran towards him.

She could lead these two on a merry chase through the buildings, but that would look bad to the bosses she was trying to connect with. Unelegant. Much better to pick them off, and more violently than before. Maybe then the Jedi would realize she wasn't to be trifled with.

Dealt lightly with. Only villains used 'trifled', and she wasn't a villain. Nope.

She went to the house next to the hotel, letting the pursuing Jedi think she was retreating there to hide, rounded it, and used the piping scuttle up the back of it. Then it was a question of climbing up window ledges until she reached the plumbing bridge. Now she could make out the heap of robes that was her would-be ambusher. She crept along the bridge silently, but just as she reached to knock him out he whipped around, leveling his lightsaber at her neck, leaving her no choice but to lift her hands in surrender.

Or, that was the plan. Obviously she'd known he'd sense her coming, so she'd taken the liberty of disabling his lightsaber from a distance with the Triple X Hacker.

The lightsaber gave a feeble fizz.

Sarah grabbed the front of the Knight's tunic, pulled him out of the shadows, and dangled him over the distant ground. With his training, he'd land feet first, receiving two nastily broken legs. That should send her message quite nicely.

Only it wasn't a Knight. It was a padawan.

Obi-Wan No Nickname Kenobi looked back at her, breathing quickly. She saw the plan now, and also that Obi-Wan had no faith in it: That Sarah liked them too much to maim them.

She looked down. Sure enough, there was Qui-Gon, looking up from the ground.

He gave her a nod.

She could always drop Obi-Wan on him, and slow them _both _down.

Sarah sighed, and rolled her head irritably.

_Check and mate._

_Author's Note: Reviews bring chapters! Thanks for reading._


	13. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

She brought Obi-Wan safely back over the bridge, a plan on how best to knock him out already formed. Unfortunately for Sarah, she'd barely gotten a chance to know him. She'd learned Obi-Wan was very by-the-rules. Fortunately, the idea that a Jedi's only weapon should be the Force and his lightsaber was an _unspoken_ rule.

He rammed a Buzzer against her hand. Her joints locked, and she tipped over the side of the bridge. He let her. After what she'd done to Gillis and Mycay, he didn't much care whether she hit the ground.

Sarah felt the air rush past her body, and comb through her hair. She'd have smiled if she could. She loved it when someone could surprise her.

Two large, warm arms caught her, dipping a little so she wouldn't feel any pain. Her motionless eyes looked up at Qui-Gon.

"We need to have a talk." he said.

…

Qui-Gon nodded at the elderly grenspik and his wife as they exited the apartment. Before she closed the door, the wife cast an interested glance at the handcuffed Sarah, who was in the process of taking off her white hat.

"Here." said Sarah. She tossed the hat like a frisbee. "For your troubles."

The elderly woman put the hat on what could loosely be called her head, then nodded. "Fritzu."

"...You too."

The door shut.

Sarah plopped on the nearest chair in a heap of blue coat-tails. The chair automatically levitated her feet into a reclining position, and she raised her eyebrows slowly, eyes widening.

"Master." Obi-Wan said, quietly.

Qui-Gon walked aside with him, keeping Sarah in the corner of his eye, who was now floating her feet up and down in fascination.

"Why are we waiting for the pick up?" asked Obi-Wan. "Can't we just render her unconscious, and leave now?"

"Only if you wanted to risk an open attack." said Qui-Gon. "She's been talking with all the wrong people. The Bosses are interested."

"I have a question too." Sarah called.

They turned.

"Who says 'render unconscious'?" she asked.

Obi-Wan gave her a blank face that was as good as a moody scoff.

She lifted Obi-Wan's lightsaber. "I can fix this, if you want."

He kept his features blank. She must have purloined it while he was cuffing her, but let Qui-Gon think he'd given it to her to look at.

"You might as well." he said, approaching her to avoid Qui-Gon's scrutiny. "It's your fault it's broken."

"Sorry." she said, with a wince. "From my point of view you're locking me up on account of a superstition."

"And from ours, you're risking lives on account of stubbornness. " said Qui-Gon.

She smiled. "Yeah, you do have the trump card there." She squinted down the center of the lightsaber, and stood up. "Well, just let me get my tools."

Qui-Gon pushed her lightly in passing, and she fell back into the chair.

"Try not to shatter any of his bones while I'm gone." he said, as if talking about his grandmother's china.

And with that, he unsuspiciously left them alone together. If he hoped to actually keep Sarah at the Temple, part of her would have to want to stay. The more friends, the better.

Obi-Wan swiped his lightsaber from her hands, and looked it over to find out what she'd done. She grinned. It amused her to no end that he treated her like a delinquent.

"You're not very happy with me." she said.

"Should I be?"

"Touche." She leant back. "The Buzzer was smart. Elegance aside, it's always good to have a plan B."

"Why are you trying to befriend me?" he asked, frankly.

"Because I like you." she replied, equally blunt. "And I suppose I feel a bit guilty. You know, I'd never have tricked your friends if I thought they were in any real danger."

He shook his head. "You might as well have aimed a blaster at their heads, and expected them to dodge."

"Ah, if I was _normal_, perhaps," she said, sitting forward. "but I'm a genius, and that's putting it mildly. I knew their limits."

"So well that you were willing to bet their lives on it?"

"Clearly. I _am_ that good."

"Modesty, then, is not a virtue on your planet." he noted.

"No, it wasn't, really."

He wondered if the 'wasn't' was a bid for sympathy, but she'd said it so off the cuff that he doubted it.

"What species _are _you?" he asked, loosening a little.

Her mouth dropped open.

"Oh my gosh, Karen." she said. "You can't just ask people what species they are."

"Pardon?"

"Gallifreyan." she answered. "I'm a Time Lady. Basically that means I know enough to wing it with style. And you?"

"Human."

"For goodness' sakes, you things are everywhere!"

"Do you know where we came from, then?"

She turned her head over her shoulder, as if she'd heard something.

"Hey, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"How long does it take to walk up and down a flight of stairs?"

_Author's note: Any parts in particular that you've liked so far?_


	14. There Is No Such Thing As Luck

He could have dismissed it as Qui-Gon biding his time to let them talk, but something in Sarah's voice made him spring to his feet. She stopped him with an upraised hand, and stretched her Force senses. Until now, she'd been trying to ignore the Force as much as possible for fear of accidents. Now she felt the gaping hole below them, where Qui-Gon's warm presence should have rung back.

"He's gone." she said.

Obi-Wan headed for the door, but she caught him by the wrist.

"He hasn't left. His scent is _gone._" Or he was dead, but she didn't want to think about having to tell Obi-Wan that. "With someone powerful enough to hide a person from the Force, we don't want to just barge in. Can you-?"

She held up her cuffs. If he freed her, she _would_ escape, and he knew it. They might catch her again, but her escape was a certainty.

"You'll need back-up." she said, quietly. "We can wait for the Jedi, but by the time they get here it may be too late-"

He uncuffed her.

She went to the window. "That Buzzer still charged?"

"Yes."

"A Buzzer, a padawan, my sweet moves, and surprise." She mulled it over. "Eh. I've worked with less."

They clung to the side of the building, crawling down, and around the windows with as much creeping elegance as Count Dracula. Sarah's agility was natural, and Obi-Wan's stemmed from the force- but, oddly enough, she was the one who was more confident, to whom the ground was hardly noticed. It went seamlessly, till a young togruta girl noticed them. One call of "Mommy, look!" and they were screwed.

Sarah gave her a cheery wave.

The girl grinned toothily, waved back, then ran away giggling. Sarah smiled smugly, looked at Obi-Wan, and gave him a head swoop that said '_Fab_ulous!'

He shook his head.

She clambered down to one side of the bottom window, and Obi-Wan climbed down the other. She peeked in, nose over the sill.

The room was covered in doilies, and old pictures. There was an oven in the corner, and a peach table where Sarah's confiscated tool belt lay.  
In sharp contrast to this atmosphere, two greasy humanoids stood in the middle of it, arguing. One was a male human, with a brown tuft of hair, and skin turned wrinkly by the sun and wind. The other was a female of a race Sarah had never seen before. She was bald, navy colored, with silky skin, and an oval of black skin around each sea-blue eye. They both had the air of people who worked under the hood of an engine, and wore identical charcoal backpacks.

"Oh, well _done, _Drayche!" said the man.

"Thank you." said Drayche, indifferent to his sarcasm.

"I don't suppose you had any plans as to what to do with him afterwards?" asked the man.

There he was. Qui-Gon, limp on the floor. There was a lump on his forehead, a small trickle of blood running from it. Drayche was looking over his lightsaber. Sarah felt Obi-Wan tense beside her, as though he wanted to rip it out of her hands.

"We leave him." said Drayche. "He got no reason to connect us to the explosion."

Sarah threw Obi-Wan a look. He shrugged, which she took to mean that he knew of no such incident. So it was still to come.

He prodded her with his foot. _Lets dispatch them already._

She raised a hand, and gestured to her chin. _Let them talk._

"Of all the houses in this neighborhood, you pick one with a Jedi in it." the man muttered.

"Would you rather Filly's boy had spotted us?" she said.

He threw up his hands dramatically. "Well, pardon _me."_

Drayche smiled. "Eat something, Lam. We've got hours before it's time to detonate."

And they were directly in control of this would-be explosion. Oh, _do_ keep talking, dodgy handymen!

"Robbing an old couple." said Lam, opening the cupboard. "Now I _know_ I've made it."

"For goodness's sakes, don't whine to me about the dignity of your career. You're taking out the _Jedi_ this evening. How's that for making it?"

Yes. Thank you, dodgy handymen, that's all we needed to hear.

She sensed confusion from Obi-Wan. How had they been able to lace the Temple with explosives without being sensed? You'd think Yoda would be able to break through this little Force masking trick of theirs.

Well, the interrogaters could figure that one out. _Their _job was simple. Knock them out, and wait for the Jedi to arrive.

Reaching under the window sill, she touched Obi-Wan's hand. She reluctantly entered the shallowest level of his mind, and sent a question mark. With equal reservation, he let her in.

_Kay, as powerful as they might be, I doubt they're prepared for me. _she thought to him. _So how about you climb back up, walk downstairs, and tearfully beg for your Master's life? Then I'll take them out from behind._

_Tearfully?_ he replied.

_Well, do your best._

He sighed, silently, and started climbing. She listened to the handymen flirt, and talk about their shares(so they were hired, not Sith) until they heard footsteps on the stairs. They turned, Lam charging his blaster, Drayche hefting Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

"Don't shoot!" Obi-Wan called, in a scared voice.

"Get down here!" Lam barked. "Hands up!"

Obi-Wan entered. But the moment he did, his acting face vanished, replaced by utter confusion, and disorientation. Drayche smiled.

They were attacking his mind! Time to cut this short.

Sarah grabbed the top of the window and swung in, feet first.

"Do you mean like this?" she asked.

They faced her, and she raised her hands.

Nothing happened. The handymen _didn't_ go flying back into the wall, and suddenly the only pair of eyes Sarah had were her own. It was no mask, or trick. In this room, the Force simply didn't exist.

"...Ah." she said.

Obi-Wan jumped from behind, Buzzer at the ready. Without looking, Drayche pointed Qui-Gon's lightsaber backwards, and turned it on. Obi-Wan fell, scrambling back to avoid the extending blade. He was pretty clumsy without the Force. Drayche kept the humming green blade under his chin, and Lam leveled his blaster at Sarah.

"They didn't come down at once." said Drayche. "They must have been listening."

"My Master came down to get the tool belt." said Obi-Wan. "We didn't notice how long he was taking until now!"

"Convincing." said Drayche, dryly.

"Yeah, kid, I came in through the _window._" said Sarah. "Think your lies through next time. Yes, we heard you, but that's no reason to pummel _both _of us. You can blow up what you like, as far as I care. I've got no love for the Jedi."

"Which is why you tried to help the padawan," said Lam, "with the _Force?"_

_"_Yeah, Sarah," said Obi-Wan. "think your lies through next time."

"Cheeky." she said.

"What do we do?" Lam asked, quietly.

"What do you think?" said Drayche, and raised the lightsaber.

"_Wait!" _said Sarah.

Drayche hesitated, instinctively. Sarah's eyes flew over the room to find a way to save Obi-Wan. He was too young to die, especially without a nickname!

Her eyes zoomed in on the blue fur in Lam's pocket, attached to a gold chain. A rabbit's foot?

"If you kill us, we'll still warn the Jedi." said Sarah. "In fact, I think we'll lead them right to you. Or haven't you done your research?"

Lam's jaw clenched.

"Drayche." he said.

"Lam." she said.

"_Drayche."_

_"Lam."_

"It's _fact."_ said Lam. "They've been caught on camera!"

"Yes, just like the Jelnara Lake Monster."

"Even _scientists_ talk about them! Look, we leave them under the Temple with the ysalamiri, and they can blow up with the rest of their friends. Then it won't matter if they turn ghost or not."

_Hold on,_ thought Sarah. _This wasn't what I was thinking at all._

"Do you know exactly how much I _don't_ want to drag three Jedi around the city?" said Drayche.

"We can leave the big one. He hasn't heard anything."

"Oh, well, that makes it _so _much better."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," said Sarah. "Lets not be hasty. What if-"

Lam shot her in the face.


	15. Imprint

Sarah woke up in darkness that was relieved sometimes by a dim, red light.

She stretched her face, imagining fine cracks spreading across it. It was dry where the hot stun bolt had hit it. She tried to stretch her arms, but they were held back by wires that left imprints on her skin. A piece of fowl tasting cloth was stuffed into her mouth. They'd clearly relished shutting her up. Around her neck was a small, lizard-like creature. It nuzzled into her like a kitten. This must be the Force restraining ysalamiri the handymen had mentioned.

She waited a few moments for her brain to reboot, then looked around. Wow. A piece of Coruscant that actually looked natural. It was a long, cylindrical cave, with rough, spongey looking stone. Her shoes were dangled over a rock bed, dipped in a flowing stream-

Oh.

Well, even Jedi needed to poop.

She squirmed, squiggled, and managed to turn enough to see the row of explosives behind her, leading into the distance.

Obi-Wan was nowhere in sight.

_Okay._ she thought, looking up at the bombs that also lined the ceiling. _Now we, uh...Now we, uh…_

_Hmm._

…_._

Obi-Wan flinched awake to the sound of hissing. He slowly turned his head to look at the ysalamiri. It was an ugly creature when upset, and not at all something you wanted to wake up to. A loop of yarn around its neck fastened it to Obi-Wan, and it was not remotely happy about this. He tried to open his mouth to say some soothing words, and then he realized his situation.

The red flashes were in synch, lighting the cave up like a horror film, then plunging it into utter blackness. The row of bombs ended with him, meaning the one in front of him must be the trigger. It had a timer on it.

That said fifteen seconds.

Now fourteen.

His heartbeat quickened. He tried to make himself calm down, but the serenity of the Force was miles away. Obi-Wan's mind flew to what his training advised in times like these, but _all_ of it required that self-same power.

He found himself hoping that Qui-Gon was still unconscious in that house.

No! He couldn't give up before he'd even started!

_Think, you pathetic boy, or all of their lives will be on your head!_

Twelve seconds.

Qui-Gon wouldn't still be at the house. The Jedi would have picked him up, and taken him back to the Temple to form a search party. Obi-Wan desperately tried to shift the cords binding him. The ysalamiri hissed, and sank its teeth into his shoulder. Was it poisonous?

Ten seconds.

_What do I do? What do I do?_ He couldn't even move enough to kick the trigger into the stream!

Nine.

Eight.

The red flashes grew quicker, like his accelerating heart.

Seven.

Six.

Obi-Wan shouted into his gag. A hand brushed his shoulder in passing.

"Easy, Ben." said Sarah.

Four.

She flipped the trigger over.

Three.

She opened it.

Two.

Her hand hesitated a moment over the wires.

One.

She yanked out two red ones.

Zero.

_Author's note: Ysalamiri aren't mine. They're semi cannon. Google 'em._


	16. Harmony

Silence. The flashes returned to normal speed. She flipped the trigger back over. Five minutes.

Obi-Wan wilted in relief, and felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude towards Sarah. He stamped down on it. It was based too much on adrenaline, and not logic. She wasn't any less of a criminal than she had been before.

"We're not out of the water yet." said Sarah, moving to pet the ysalamiri. "The trigger's only there for a reliable detonation time. Their restraints will expire if we don't stop them. I'm communicating with your ysalamiri's mind right now. With a little persuasion, they can be quite agreeable."

The Force returned to him in a tidal wave, and his emotions were again sent into disarray. He felt like a lost child reunited with his mother. With the Force's help, they quickly untied him. Obi-Wan guessed that she had escaped in the same manner, considering the cut down her arm where she must have mentally hacked at bonds.

"I'll alert the Masters." he said, jumping to his feet.

"They're on their way." Sarah replied, taking apart the trigger. "Remember, the only reason our lovely grease monkeys were able to rig this up is because of the lizards. Do you know how to make a Gordion circuit?"

"I do."

"Then get to work. We've got to make a signal that's big enough to power off all of them. There's no time to do it individually."

"Are you quite certain you can do that?" Obi-Wan asked, dubiously.

"What, create an entirely new invention based on technology I'm not familiar with in under five minutes? I'm surprised you asked!"

There was a small _clang._

"Uh oh."

Obi-Wan looked up from his work. That was _not_ what he wanted to hear.

"What is it?"

She held up a packet of gently glowing blue gel, and sighed through her nose.

"Float two of those down for me, would you?" she asked.

Obi-Wan stretched his Force arm, and handed the bombs to her.

"We're going to have to send the signal chemically." she reported. "Now, there won't be any actual _blast_, but...the air down here might ignite."

"...I understand." he answered.

"Don't be silly, Ben. We're not going to die." she stated. "We just have to run...really, really fast."

_And hope that the exit is a __lot__ closer than I think it is._

A few seconds later, and she'd built something that didn't raise Obi-Wan's hopes at all- a tumbleweed of gel packs and wires. Some of the packets had broken open and started to ooze, making the wires hiss with steam.

"What's your blood type?" she asked.

"A negative."

"That's fortunate."

Obi-Wan ripped off a strip of bloody cloth where the ysalamiri had bitten him, and handed it to her.

"What would've happened if I wasn't?" he inquired.

"Oh, I'm sure I'd have thought of something."

Obi-Wan picked up the ysalamiris in either hand.

"No," she said, "The fire will make them panic, and start rejecting the Force again. We'll need it if we're going to get out of here alive."

Obi-Wan felt a pull in his stomach. "Couldn't we put them to sleep?"

"I wish we could, but they'd wake up."

Resignedly, Obi-Wan sent them into a trance, and dipped them in the stream. At least they'd have a more merciful death there.

"I'm sorry, Ben." she said, for lack of something better.

"It isn't your fault." said Obi-Wan. "Remarkably."

She grinned. "Sass. Sassy padawan."

Sarah kicked the tumble weed, making him jump. A big spurt of goo blossomed from the top.

"Ben?" he asked.

"What?"

"You called me Ben."

"No, I didn't."

"_Sarah._"

She swung her foot. "I was thinking 'Ken', but Barbie couldn't handle you, and...Obi...has a b…"

Sarah peered at him for approval.

"It's worthier than Wob." he replied.

The corner of her mouth lifted. She put her hand on his shoulder.

"And so it shall beeee." she whispered.

She gave the cloth a sharp twist. A drop of his blood started to fall. They were running before it hit the mark.

_Author's Note: The review button is the coin slot. Just as soda machines require tin to give you tin cans, I require words to spout more words. Feed me, oh readers!_


	17. Fried Alive

"The young lady doesn't appear to have a quiet disposition in regards to the Force." said Dooku. "It will be easy enough to locate your padawans. Calm yourself."

_Padawans._ Qui-Gon felt a small burst of irritation at the implication that she was another one of his "strays". He'd had a legitimate reason to bring her here. But it was rarely any good countering his old Master.

A moment later, a young initiate ran in, insisting she sensed people beneath the Temple as if they'd just _appeared_ there. They ran off to open the sewers, along with Mace. However, before they could even open the heavy door that protruded from the cement, an electronic voice warned them that the entire tunnel was filled with a low heat flame. He stamped down on his sudden fear.

"We should wait until it dies down." said Dooku.

"They could be dead by then." said Qui-Gon.

"We can handle a little fire." Mace said, dismissively. "Stand back."

They stepped to the side, and Mace opened the door with a gesture of his wrist. A cloud of fire roared out, blossoming into nothing in the sky. Started cries came from passersby. It was certain. The flames had overtaken whoever was inside. They were dead, or-

A glowing warmth ran through the Force just before two figures sprouted from the fire. Sarah and Obi-Wan ran alongside each other, black hair and jedi robes buffeting behind them. When they made it to Qui-Gon, they kept running. The reason for this became apparent. They were both on fire. Their backs fluttered with flames(along with Sarah's arms, indicating she'd tried to shield Obi-Wan at one point). A rising noise came from Sarah as they went.

"Aaaaaaaaaaa**aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAH-** hck!"

The last sound was prompted by Obi-Wan grabbing her by the collar, and pulling her into the nearby fountain. They rolled over until the flames were doused. Dooku shut the door, leaving the already diminishing fire to die out. They approached the sodden duo. Obi-Wan had risen to his knees, while Sarah panted on her back, looking into the sky.

"Haaaaah." she breathed. "If I..._never_ have to go through that again, I will be a very happy fugitive."

"Turn around." said Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan obeyed. His heavy robes had saved him from a lot of the damage. There were only two places where the fire had eaten through completely, and neither burn looked too bad. Obi-Wan gave the Masters a brief rundown of the events as Qui-Gon went to Sarah.

"Lets have a look at you." he said.

"I'm not leaving this water." she said.

"Now."

She trudged out of the fountain, wincing with every step, muttering, "Merciless Jedi moose." He gently turned her by her shoulder. She'd fared much worse than her partner. Her shirt was thin, and now flapped open at the back. A parody of Obi-Wan's light escape, her burns had reached third degree in two places, revealing charred gold blood.

"You need the hospital wing immediately." he said.

"Nope." she said. "I've got to get you Drayche and Lam first. Lend me your cloak, would you, Jinny?"

She soaked it in the fountain, put it on, and showed an ounce of relief. Obi-Wan had finished, and the others were listening now.

"If you could be so could as to give me a hand, I'll find them." said Sarah. "Shouldn't be too hard to find two blank patches in the Force with my range."

Qui-Gon looked at Mace, who nodded. He put his hands on either side of her head, and reforged their mental bond. Her mind was full of pain, worry that her back would crack open, eagerness to complete the adventure, and a surge of affection for him and Obi-Wan. He helped her fade all of these thoughts, like fog dissipating to reveal a starry night.

After a moment, she turned away. It felt unnatural to Obi-Wan to see her normally energy-filled eyes so clear.

"Can someone call a taxi?" she asked.


	18. Sarah's Thanks

Sarah grew increasingly anxious as they drove through the city skylines. She'd squirm, then wince from back pain. Then she'd forget, and squirm again.

"What is it?" asked Qui-Gon.

"I've got a bad feeling," she said, "but it's not _me. _Not my subconscious."

"The Force, obviously."

"Well, could it be a little more specific? Left here."

Mace turned accordingly. When they finally stopped at a departure port, Sarah was running, heedless of her traumatized skin, pushing through any citizens that got in her way. Then she stopped all of a sudden, and shut her eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked Obi-Wan.

"They saw us coming." she said.

Two blaster bolts rang out, and people started screaming. They found Drayche and Lam limp across a bench. Their ysalamiri were dead and bloody in their laps. Lam had a blaster bolt through his head, but Drayche was still alive. Her skull was fried open, the brain exposed through the hole. Sarah ran to her, and cradled the would-be assassin.

"Stay awake, Drayche." said Sarah. "We'll get you to a med team."

"You'd be doing me a disservice." Drayche said, limply.

"We can protect your from your employer." said Sarah. "More importantly, _I _can protect you from your employer."

"Jedi, I'm going to tell you something that may give you a shock."

With one hand, she grabbed Sarah by the collar, and pulled her low.

"There are things in this universe much scarier than you." Drayche whispered, and died.

Sarah looked into her glassy eyes. A woman who didn't flinch at the prospect of killing hundreds of men, women, and children had doubtless killed before, but Sarah couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. Maybe it was the love Drayche had born Lam. That had been pure, without a trace of an ulterior motive.

Sarah lowered her gently, and stood up.

"Well," said Sarah. "that's that. Get me to a computer, and I can at least track their time here."

"Sarah?" said Dooku.

"Yes?" she said, turning to face him.

He began to cuff her.

"Ah." she said.

She glanced at Obi-Wan, who felt a small pang of guilt that her reward was this.

"You're welcome." she called as she was led away.


	19. Making Enemies

Sarah was steered back to the speeder. The others stayed behind, presumably to deal with the bodies. The elderly man's grip on her shoulder was a clamp of pain her tight skin.

"Oh, mind if we- can we- I won't run away, honest." she said, leaning away.

He released her.

"My apologies." he said, in a voice that rang with good breeding and etiquette. It also rang hollow. He thought himself gracious for saying it to someone like her.

"No problem."

They got inside, and shut the doors. Sarah looked back at the scene.

"They should wrap up those lizard scrapings." she said. "I may be able to work out what made them tick."

"That won't be necessary."

She saw where Qui-Gon got his condescending side from.

"But even if the Sith _are_ all but extinct, it'd be a leap forward for your generation." she said.

Plus, the ysalamiri could be a good argument in her case for the boundaries of the Force.

"There are energy cuffs that disorientate a Jedi in much the same manner." he said, dismissively.

She gave him a side glance. His mind had yet to decline, but already he was unshakeable in his beliefs. A prime example of a Jedi.

"I understand." she said, with overdone sympathy. "It must be hard to accept that something as weak as a lizard can hold back your Force."

He bristled subtly at her condescension. There was only more to come. The more unwanted she was, the more likely she'd have Jedi fighting to get her out of their home.

"The Jedi have been studying the idiosyncrasies of the Force for over a hundred years." he said. "You've been here for two days. You must concede the possibility that we know more than you."

"I know enough to recognize a closed mind."

"We've said much the same of you."

She smiled. "'I know you are, but what am I?'"

Dooku pulled the classic I-won't-dignify-that-with-a-response, and they spent the rest of the ride in silence. When they stepped out onto the landing pad, he re-clamped his hand on her shoulder. Sarah smiled.


	20. At the End of the Day

Sarah craned her neck like a tourist as she was pushed through the halls. This might not be a bad place to come for a vacation, once she had a new face. The place was simply furnished, made for breathing, and serenity. The high ceilinged halls gave you a freeing sense of air and space, and the windows were strategically placed so that half of the lighting was natural- currently it was the white of moonlight.

The Jedi payed no heed to her as she walked past. Not because they were too good to, or something like that, but because they didn't see the point of staring. She admired that. The padawans' reactions were more natural, however. Some of their looks held amazement, others resentment.

An attendant with a head similar to a hammer head shark's, but with large, mossy green eyes walked up to them when they reached the hospital wing.

"Third degree burns, Isanne." said Dooku. "Caused by a chemically produced fire."

With a twitch of his hands, her cuffs came undone. He inclined his head, respectfully, and left. Sarah lifted her eyebrows.

"Is he alright?" she asked.

"I don't know." said Isanne. "Have you said anything that may have displeased him?"

"No." she said, wide-eyed. "We got on marvelously."

"Lets have a look at you."

Isanned turned her with four thick, grey fingers that were bulbous at the end. Her grip was cool, and didn't hurt like Dooku's.

"Can you tell me your race, Sarah?" she asked.

"Gallifreyan." she said. "If you can tell me what supplies you have, I can help you heal me."

"Lie down." said Isanne.

She gestured to one of the pillow-less, rose colored beds, and walked away. The moment she lay on it, the bed molded to her form, giving her the impression of a marshmallow cloud without the sticky. She turned her head, and Gillis looked back at her, his leg in a cast. Mycay was on the bed beside him, her hands folded over her ribs, looking bored. Gillis eyed Sarah's macabre back.

"Life as a rogue not so glamorous, then?" he asked.

"These came from under the Temple, actually." said Sarah.

That drew Mycay's interest.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing spectacular," said Sarah, "unlike your friend _jumping over two moving speeders._"

Mycay grinned at him. "Did you really?"

"Yes." said Gillis, simply.

"Hey, sorry about putting you guys through a crapload of pain." said Sarah. "I have to get back to my friends. Didn't mean for you to pay the price."

Gillis nodded in an 'oh, really' way. Mycay kicked him lightly, and he gave her a supreme glance.

"It's fine." said Mycay, surprisingly. "You're not a Jedi yet."

As if that was all that was needed to be said.

"Though you might consider this." said Gillis. "If you continue to rebel, we're not the last ones who will pay. All Jedi rely on each other, in one way or another."

"Well, I have no intention of getting anyone killed." said Sarah, placatingly.

Gillis and Mycay gave her unified condescending looks. She raised her eyebrows.

"Is everyone getting along?" said Isanne, returning with a med cart.

"They gave me funny looks." said Sarah.

"That's nice, dear."

First they concocted a relieving, strengthening cream for the lesser burns, and then two custom made skin grafts for the worse ones. Half an hour later, and she was left with tender skin that was very pale in two places. Isanne gave her a tub of cream to apply for two days afterwards, a set of Jedi robes, and orders to hit the showers. They were communal, of course, but luckily not air based. Nothing could beat warm water. She stripped, stretched her hand out of the curtain to put her burnt clothes on a bench, and let the water soothe away the stress of the day. The soap/shampoo was a pleasant smelling pink goo. In place of towels there was an automated cool breeze. She flailed at first at the sudden temperature change, but in another moment she was flipping her hair, and singing 'No Air' at the top of her lungs, mimicking the echoes in the song. Only the Jedi robes remained when she reached for her clothes, but she'd expected this, which was why she'd kept her necklace on in the shower. Sarah donned the beige pants and sleeveless undershirt, ignoring the tunic and cloak, and wrapped the belt around her middle. The Jedi believed that vanity was distracting, but she believed that they could take their ideals, and shove it up their-

Qui-Gon was there when she rounded the corner.

"Were you waiting there the whole time?" she asked. "Creepy, Jinny."

"I'm to show you to your quarters," said Qui-Gon, "and retrieve _that_."

Giving up the clothes was easy enough. They'd been burnt to shreds, and carried as many bad memories as good ones. But her cross was more than sentiment. She debated with herself a moment over whether or not to tell him, but she may as well. They'd been comfortably in each other's minds, for Pete's sake.

"My planet's gone." She said. "It, and all of its inhabitants were destroyed in a war. This is the only thing I have from it. My father gave it to me."

She spoke it so plainly, as if she thought it would be grossly self-pitying to express any grief. He'd sensed she had some baggage. It was one of the reasons he'd felt the need to "adopt" her, as it were. But this was worse than anything he'd assumed.

"It'll be locked in the vaults," He said. " and returned to you once they deem you fit to own personal possessions."

She looked away, shaking her head wryly. She wasn't prepared to hand anything over to the Council.

"I can keep it for you, if you prefer." He said.

"That'd be much better, actually." She said.

She undid the clasp, and uncurled the necklace into his palm.

"So, how's Obi-Wan?" she asked, as they walked down the hall.

"Fully recovered. His burns barely needed treatment. You shielded him well."

"Least I could do for Jinny's padawan. And…how is he mentally?"

He hesitated. Obi-Wan had suffered a real scare, and was now trying to act unaffected. But that was between him and his apprentice.

"Never mind." She said, reading this. "I wish him a speedy recovery."

"I'll let him know."

Qui-Gon stopped in front of one of the identical off-white doors, and waved his hand over the sensor beside it. The door swept back into the wall, revealing a room that was bare and small, but large enough not to be claustrophobic. There was a simple bed without a pillow or blankets, a bedside table, and a lamp. That was it.

Well, she had no intention of becoming familiar with it.

She turned in the doorway. "Well, goodnight, my beautiful Jedi."

"Until tomorrow, Sarah."


	21. Loose

Sleep was...difficult. She was used to sleeping in all sorts of places, but never one with a semi-sentient power that kept jerking her awake just as she was about to nod off. The Force demanded to be recognized. She had to run herself in a light coma to escape it.

Finally, she was awakened by the feeling of someone behind the door. She twisted herself out of bed, staggered a little, and waved the door open to see Gillis.

She frowned.

"You're not Qui-Gon." she deduced.

"Morn' greetings." he said. "I will be escorting you to classes."

She put a hand over her hearts.

"Are you saying the Masters don't _trust_ me?" she said, tragically.

Ironic, because she'd intended to attend all of them before this. A bit of extra knowledge never hurt. But now she thought she'd only go to the ones that appealed to her. Yeah, yeah, she'd expected an escort. But Gillis wasn't Jinny, the Force was a creeper, and it was too early for this crap.

He hadn't deigned to give her a response. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't envy you." she said. "And I won't make this any harder on you than it already is. So shall we?"

She walked down the hall, and he followed.

_Well, that was easy. _said his walk.

Suddenly, the Force hit her in a tidal wave. Eyes, eyes _everywhere_. So many hearts! There was Ben's, just a few floors away. One wrong mental flick, and she'd squash it. Sarah sank to her knees, hands on either side of her head.

Surprised, Gillis knelt beside her, taking her by the shoulders.

"Don't think of them as individuals." he said, voice echoing the sermons of dead Masters. "They are merely eddies in a unifying stream-"

His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, unconscious. She removed her thumb and forefinger from his neck, hid her mind from the Force again, and rolled him comfortably on his back.

Sarah whistled away with her hands in her pockets, giving a staring padawan a cheery, "Mornin'!" as she passed.


	22. Lesson One

The first priority was FOOD. Beautiful, fulfilling food. She couldn't eat with the padawans. That would alert the Masters that she'd lost her escort. So she marked where the cafeteria was, then thought like the Temple builders until she found the second door to the kitchens where the cooks went in. The kitchen was full of bubbling pots, the hiss of frying, and the soft curdle of mixers. Knights and padawans alike worked to provide sustenance for the entire Temple. There didn't appear to be any hired help, which felt right. No lackeys to encourage the padawans to be snotty.

Apparently that aspect just came naturally.

One Master with her hair in a soft, strawberry blonde bun was washing muja fruits, and putting them in a basket. Sarah swiped one, and raised her finger to her lips. The Master smiled, and said nothing. Cooks were good.

Bending over a pot of grey gravy with black spices was a familiar golden brown head. A moment later, and an arm was squeezing Obi-Wan from behind, the other arm darting out to dip its fruit in the gravy.

"'Ello, Ben." said Sarah.

She released him, moving aside to lean against the counter.

"You're a chef, then?" she said.

"We take turns with the chores." he said. He eyed her concoction. "You know, some people eat at a table."

"Then some people don't get to talk to you. How's the back?"

"Recovered."

"And the pride?"

He raised an eyebrow. _Oh, Obi._

"Pardon?" he said.

"Well, you were rescued by a scoundrel. Can't do wonders for the old self-esteem."

"I also pulled the scoundrel into the fountain right in front of it."

"I was on _fire! _I was a little distracted! Hey, could you give me the rundown of our class schedule?"

"Are you actually going to attend them, then?"

"To be honest, a few of them. I'm painfully aware that I know next to nothing about your universe."

As an Initiate, her classes were separate from Ben's. She would be trained with the toddlers, a notion she found hilarious. She decided to skip the lectures on the Jedi temperament, morals, history, and cultures. If the latter two classes were at toddler level, she'd learn more by hacking into the library computers. She settled on lightsaber, and Force basics.

Ki-Adi-Mundi's class room felt a lot like Sunday School. The ceiling was low, the windows were wide, and the beige carpet was plush, made for sitting cross-legged. The windows were open, letting in a fresh breeze, but the blinds were drawn to prevent daydreaming(a pastime Sarah had found very instructive back at the Academy). At the back was a brown cabinet, where the Bibles and toys would go on Earth.

The children were already sitting in a semi-circle. They stopped talking and stared when she entered. She sat at the end of the line, looming over them, and tucked her legs in.

"'Ello." she said. "I'm Sarah. Don't worry, I'm not lost. Unless you all are very short Padawans."

Someone at the other end of the line raised his hand.

"We're not!" he assured her.

"...Good." she said.

"How old are you, miss?" asked the boy beside her. He was striped red and white, with two tentacles growing down his head.

"Ninety-six." she said.

"But that's too old!"

The girl beside him cupped her little hands around his ear, and whispered for a moment.

"Sorry." he said.

"Don't be." said Sarah. "You're right. I _am _too old. Maybe if enough of us say so, the Masters will send me away."

"Oh, no. The Masters always have a reason." said the girl.

"They're not always right." said Sarah.

"Our new student is quite correct."

The students turned their heads in unison. Mundi had entered.

"No one is infallible." he said, "but it is just as well to trust the superior experience of others."

"Yes, Master Mundi." chorused the children.

"Ms. Sarah." said Mundi. "I am honored."

"Oh, I'd never skip _your _class, Mundi." she said.

He opened the cabinet, took out a datapad, and typed something.

"Have you all brought your pebbles?" he asked.

"Yes, Master Mundi."

The children looked at Sarah, who hadn't answered. She looked back, and shook her head with fake solemnity. Mundi checked the reply on his pad, then returned it to the cabinet.

"No matter." said Mundi. "Ms. Sarah has a different lesson to learn. Trucy?"

"Yes, Master?" said tentacle boy.

"Do you remember your first class?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then kindly teach Sarah. You may use the corner."

Sarah followed the little one as Mundi began instructing the kids on levitation. They sat across from each other.

"Hmm." said Trucy, furrowing his little eyebrows in concentration. "Okay. Lesson Number One, you do not have to fear the Force."


	23. Dorimy

Trucy's lesson contained no actual practice. It was all about how the Force reacted to common personality traits- for example, a very passionate person would find their streams strong, but erratic and unreliable. She was more interested in him. He was curious, and creative. Judging by the way he bore himself, the Jedi had taught him to be wary of these traits, which could have created an artist. When they were finished, the children gave Mundi little head-bows. Sarah gave one to Trucy, her somber expression making him stifle a laugh.

Next was Yoda's class, of which I'll describe very little, as this is the only time she'll go. He gave her no special treatment, other than some teasing about playing hookey to make the younglings laugh. He gave her a short practice lightsaber, and paired her up with Trucy, who took her through a very rudimentary kata. She soon caught the gist, and started adding impromptu improvements out of boredom. After half an hour of this, Yoda told her to put up the saber, and leave. She did, feeling a little put out. She'd thought Yoda was a good sort, but apparently he was more like his fellows after all.

That was it for today. She followed the stream of padawans and initiates into the courtyard, where dinner was inside a ring of baskets on the rim of the fountain. Her eyes swung in search of Obi-Wan, when a weird feeling grabbed her attention.

_Damn, Force. Whatchu playing at?_

Ruefully, she pulled the feeling in to examine it. Suppressed fear, gnawing worry, a hint of despair. She looked for the source. It was a stocky man her own age(appearance wise, anyway), in a dark blue suit that flattered his eyes. There wasn't anything particularly attractive about this humanoid's slightly pudgy face with the golden-brown tan...and yet….

He was standing next to a long crate with a strip of white cloth around its middle, talking to Qui-Gon. The stranger grinned at him(who seemed not to pick up on his fear), and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, then he looked back at Jinny with an overexaggerated 'sorry, what?' She smiled, and went to join them.

"-so, as I was saying, _checks_ and _balances_." said the stranger.

"Pardon?" said Qui-Gon, welcoming her with a hand on her shoulder.

The stranger raised his eyebrows. "The highly impressive thing we were just talking about?"

Qui-Gon gave him an oh-so-elegant eyebrow.

"Sarah, this is Dorimy." said Qui-Gon, with the air of getting the inevitable out of the way. "He was just dropping off our shipment of Kaiburr crystals."

"Sounds like a stressful job." said Sarah, as they shook hands.

"Oh, no, not at all." said Dorimy.

"Really?" said Sarah. "Could've sworn you seemed on edge about something."

He gave her a blank stare, still holding her hand. Then he gave his head a slight shake.

"I'm sorry." he said, then exclaimed, defensively, "Have you ever seen a body like this in your _life?_"

The nearest padawans stopped talking to stare at them. Sarah just looked on, nodding slightly.

"Thank you, Dorimy." said Qui-Gon. "That'll be all."

Dorimy sighed, and brought her hand to his lips.

"I'm keeping this." he said.

"No." Sarah said. "No, I need that."


	24. Delinquent

"I hear you've been working hard to ensure Gillis and Mycay's efforts weren't in vain." said Obi-Wan.

Sarah turned from Dorimy's departing form.

"Ben, that makes no sense." she said. "I knocked out Gillis, and skipped a bunch of classes."

His eyes were having none of it. She gave him a sympathetic smile, and thumbed his chin.

"Don't expect more of me, Ben." she said. "I'm not going to change. But if it's any consolation, I won't be here long."

He shook his head, slightly.

"The council won't let this go unanswered." he said. She couldn't tell if this was a satisfied threat, or a warning.

"I _know._" she said. "I can't wait to see what they come up with! They can't _force_ me to participate, they can't make me do chores, and they can't use corporal punishment, because that's unJedi-"

"Yoda says you're to attend Master Dooku's lightsaber class from now on."

"_What? _I mean, if that's the extent of my punishment, that's pathetic, but _what?_"

"Do you have some issue with him?" he said, raising an eyebrow.(_HA! Qui-Gon_.)

"_He_ has some issue with me."

"No, that's just his face."

Sarah burst out laughing.

"Well, I'll get to see more of _you_, at any rate." She said, whapping his arm. "That's always a plus."

He misread something in her tone, and his hackles rose.

"_You_ may have no respect for the years of blood-shed that have gone into making this Temple what it is, but if you interfere with _my_ studies for your own amusement, I will-"

"I'm going to stop you here, because I don't think you have an actual threat in mind-"

"I will report you."

"Terrifying. Have no fear, Ben. I may not agree with your lifestyle, but I won't interfere with it." She frowned. "That sounded like something else."

"Hilarious, I'm sure." He said, walking away.

"I LOVE YOU!" she called.

To tell you the truth, Obi-Wan wasn't the only one leaving their conversations with the urge to slap someone. The Temple was getting under her skin. Their lack of humor, their worship of tradition, their refusal to accept new ideas- it all stank of the Academy. Sometimes they'd even tease her in the same condescending manner, and then expect her to join in.And Ben- well, he was just a tragedy. He was hilarious, and clever, and the Temple made him _ashamed _of this.

But she had to be cool, had to stay steady. Once she'd completed her Tardis, she could come back here, and start a revolution.

Her favorite classes were Dooku's, because she could vent all her frustration by screwing with him. She'd perform the kata sloppily, and when he gave her an exercise in front of the class to humiliate her, show off by doing things like taking a bite of fruit during the most intense part.

During the latest of these exercises(a duel with a star student) she felt a sharp shove between her shoulder blades. The push allowed her partner to score a death blow- a burn at the base of her neck.

"Well done, Kenobi." said Dooku.

So Ben had shoved her. Sometimes she forgot that he was only fifteen.

"A prime example." Dooku continued. "An intelligent being will always take into consideration the fact that her enemy may have friends."

No, it was freaking _cheating, _and they all knew it. But her blatant mockery of a respected man hadn't endeared her to this class. She might as well be at highschool, with the teacher encouraging the bully. Except the bully was Ben.

A blaster bolt zapped through the room. Her opponent spun to deflect it, and letting Sarah tap his neck with her saber.

Dorimy stood in the doorway, blaster smoking.

"Couldn't agree more, sir." he said.


	25. Right or Left

Dorimy's blaster flew from his hand, and into Dooku's palm.

"The use of these within the Temple is a criminal offense." said Dooku.

"Oh." said Dorimy, and mock-bashfully cupped his hand around the back of his neck. "Well, I- I guess I'll just have to pay the fine, then. I don't suppose you could lead me to the front desk, Ms. Sarah?"

She walked out without a word, and marched down the hallway. Dorimy walked silently beside, wary of her mood.

"Are you alright?" he asked, bravado gone.

"Lets get down to business," said Sarah. "_to defeat the Huns._"

"Sorry?"

"_Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?"_

"Why would it matter-"

"_You're the saddest bunch I ever met-"_

"It's only me-"

"-_but you can BET before we're through, mister, I'll make a man out of yoooouuuuu! _Lets get down to business." said Sarah. "How much would it cost for you to break the law, and smuggle me out of this joint?"

"Hey." said Dorimy, nodding nervously at a passing Jedi.

"Don't worry about them. They don't hear anything."

"In that case, it _could _cost nothing." he said.

"Depending on what?"

"Depending of why they're keeping you here. I don't want to free you just to find that you're sanity depends on the Force, lest you slit a throat."

"Cut a bitch is the phrase you're looking for." she said.

"What's up with you and misogyny? You look smokin' hot today, by the way."

"I see what you did there."

"The fuck is that?"

"The fuck _is _that?"

Insta-stone was being sprayed into long molds, and then painted in the middle of a meditation area by five Jedi. They were building a small, concrete room, and lining it with something black and hard.

"Seriously, what is that?" asked Dorimy.

"A Quiet Room." Sarah said, evenly.

He looked at her. "A what?"

"They can't force me to participate, they can't make me do chores," she said. "and they can't use corporal punishment, because that's unJedi."

There was a pause as they watched the Knights work.

"Run away with me, Sarah." said Dorimy.

"I can't." said Sarah. "I get Force panic attacks, and I might kill someone."

He put a hand on the small of her back, and they walked out of earshot.

"What if I told you that I knew someone who could help you control your power without killing everything that's good about you?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "I'd say I'd be very interested to meet him. But to what do I owe this offer?"

"A group that means what they say." said Dorimy. "The Jedi like to pretend they're trying to help, but what they really want is to make copies of themselves. I come from a band of people who support the radical idea that you should be able to master yourself without losing yourself."

"Sounds like my kind of crowd." said Sarah.

_Author's note: Reviews bring chapters!_


	26. Dorimy the Whorimy

The rest of their exchange was too brief for Dorimy's liking. He was dubious about her plan, but she assured him all he'd have to do was break _in. _There'd be no need to break out. Besides, it was all they had time for. Dooku had managed to get him banned from the Temple for using his blaster inside of it, meaning that he couldn't do his job anymore. Luckily, he had something to fall back on.

#

That evening, when the city was dark except for the glow of neon, Dorimy reappeared on the outskirts of the Temple. He'd gotten himself up close to one of the towering walls, the sentinels at the top merely nodding at him. Not everyone knew he was banned. But to get into the Temple itself he'd have to go through the checkpoint, where they'd pull up his record. So a little distraction was needed.

Dorimy was coursing with fear. Its stench would've permeated throughout the entire Temple if he hadn't been taught a rudimentary clouding technique. Sarah had seemed so sure, but if this failed, the Jedi would up the security on her tighter than a Deltian's butthole. He'd have to go back, and ask his boss for reinforcements. Reinforcements they were scarce on.

He shook his head. When it came down to it, he was selling _himself,_ not their way of life. Sarah had to believe he respected her, needed her, even. She had a penchant for protecting strays. Selling himself was his _thing, _and sometimes that involved taking risks. If his boss expected any different, he should've drafted himself another-

The sky above the wall burst with orange and crimson light. He felt a wave of heat, alarms sent through the Force, and a vibration through the stone. Holy shit, this girl did _not _fuck around. The two sentinels turned towards the blast, and went to help. Dorimy spread his palms, and thin wires sprang from his bracelets, lining his fingers, coating their tips with iron. The steep wall was grooveless, but with these, he wouldn't need any. His fingertips fused and unfused to the stone, and he scuttled upwards like a beetle. Once he was at the top, he immediately dropped over the other side rather than risk being seen.

It was a long fall. His veins coursed with what felt like freezing speeder fuel. He nourished this fear until he was throbbing with emotion, and the ground didn't _dare _touch him. He slowed just before contact, landing lightly on the deck. While the Jedi scrambled in every direction in the light of the flames, he disappeared behind a pillar, and reappeared in Jedi robes, hood up. It was illegal to manufacture your own, and more so to wear them in public. Oops.

Dorimy started running with the others, and no one gave him a second glance.


	27. Rogues

A hand shot out from behind a pillar, and yanked him out of sight. He lunged with his fist, stopping just before he could cave her throat in.

"Don't. _do. _that." he told Sarah. "I could've hit your gonnagle."

"My gonnagle is in my chest," she informed him, "which may account for why I'm so long-winded. Come on."

They started jogging into the Temple.

"Still not sure how you're planning to fly it _out_ once we're in." he said.

"Dematerialization, son. We'll ride Vortex, not space. You ready to take out some padawans? The Masters may be preoccupied with the blast, but the little ones will still be on watch duty."

"Will the brat who shoved you be there?"

"One can only hope."

#

They traveled deeper and deeper into the ancient Temple, avoiding questions by the old trick of looking busy and grumpy. Finally, they reached the checkpoint. It was a dark grey, iron doorframe at the end of a long, dark hall. The doorway was full of exposed wires, and a few switches- a modern communications port and weapons detector.

"Two for the Hall of Curiousities, please." said Sarah.

The young marflyn nodded, and began to step aside.

"This isn't a public museum, Sarah." said a voice behind him.

The darkened hallway lit up, revealing a tan, retractable door flanked by two padawans, and Obi-Wan standing behind the marflyn.

"If you haven't noticed, sir, we're in the middle of a situation." said Sarah. "Blood, fire, death, the whole nine yards. Windu wants us to retrieve the Beltian Glider so someone can oversee the situation from above. You gonna step aside, or shall I tell the Masters they'll have to operate blind because a padawan has a grudge?"

Obi-Wan grinned, humorlessly.

"Alright, just so we're clear," he said, "Master Windu sent a rebellious, flighty Initiate to the Hall, where the remnants of her ship lie, to retrieve something _entirely _unrelated?"

"…Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." said Sarah. "You don't have to be a Jedi to be a hero, Kenobi. He knows I wouldn't just turn tail while lives are at risk."

He noticed he wasn't 'Ben' anymore. His jaw tightened.

"Then I suppose you'll have no objection to me confirming this with a Master." he said, reaching for the intercom switch.

Sarah's hand slammed onto the space above it, swift and threatening. She loomed over the boy, blocking the light from his face. He kept his expression blank, and met her gaze. Then his stomach stilled. In the dusty, black centers of her eyes were great voids of memory, full of knowledge and genius that his race would never discover, even if they were extinguished and reborn a hundred times.

"You're not going to do that, Obi-Wan." the Time Lady said, quietly. "You're not going to move_._"

Obi-Wan remained very still, as though confronted with a vicious animal. One twitch, and she'd snap, tearing him apart.

His gaze flicked over her shoulder to Dorimy, then back to her face.

"Take down your hood, sir." said Obi-Wan, keeping his voice even.

Sarah dug her fingers into his scalp, and smashed his head against the doorframe.

_AN: Reviews bring chapters!_


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